


Lust, Greed, Pride – and all the things in between

by LunaDeSangre



Series: Infinite Possibilities [6]
Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6793915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaDeSangre/pseuds/LunaDeSangre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Miguel enjoys his stolen freedom, and – in a manner of speaking – remembers O'Reily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lust, Greed, Pride – and all the things in between

It takes about a week and a half of running scared for it to really occur to Miguel: he’s _free_. Hunted, yes, but for now? He’s _completely_ free, like he’s never been before, _in all his life_. No rules to follow, no expectations to live by, no one to judge him. On the road, nobody knows him. As long as it doesn’t get him caught, he can do whatever the fuck he wants.

And right on the tail of that thought: _he can fuck whoever he wants_.

At first he goes for girls, of course. It’s what he likes, what he knows, what he’s missed. He’s less picky than ever because he’s been deprived of sex for so long, but he’s still capable of seducing just about any of them, and he still prides himself on being the best goddamn lover. Still succeeds too, and even gets meals in the process.

But –  _but_.

Somewhere along the way, this guy hits on him, and he’s tall, pale and slightly freckled, brown hair grown past his ears in unruly waves, sideburns, high cheekbones, green eyes. Irish. He looks so much like O’Reily it’s a bit scary, but Miguel’s fucking intrigued, and he’s _free_.

He doesn’t care for a name; the guy goes down on him in a dark alley and Miguel grabs his hair and fucks his mouth – in his mind, it’s _O’Reily_ taking it, choking on his cock and swallowing his come. Like it’s O’Reily, later on, who moans into a pillow in the cheap apartment Miguel’s been led to, as Miguel plunders his ass doggy-style, O’Reily who arches his back and bucks against him, impaling himself on Miguel’s cock and coming from just that. It’s O’Reily’s asshole tightening impossibly around his cock and making him explode, milking him dry until he softens and realizes he’s slammed into the guy so hard he’s jammed him up face against the headboard. (But while this guy doesn’t seem to mind – at _all_ – O’Reily, a detached part of Miguel’s blissed-out mind notes, _definitely_ would.)

Afterwards, the guy stretches to grab a pack of cigarettes on the nightstand, offers one to Miguel, and lights them both up with a lighter hiding in the pack. “Who’s O’Reily?” he asks, apparently not offended at being called the wrong name even by someone whose come is still leaking out of his ass. “Don’t tell me you call your boyfriend by his last name?”

Miguel laughs: out here, he’s got nothing to be ashamed of, so yeah, it _is_ funny. “No,” he says, “not even close. Just a guy I know.”

“Hmm,” answers the guy, sucking on his cigarette, “maybe you should fuck him like that then. You know. Make him yours.”

“He’s straight,” Miguel tells him, amused, not even sparing a thought for what it all makes _him_ , not here.

The guy gets a wicked glint in his eyes. “Like I said, maybe you should fuck him like that.”

Miguel snorts. “Maybe,” he concedes. The guy grins, all devious and sharp with an underside of gleeful amusement, almost pure O’Reily, and Miguel just laughs. The conversation is quickly dropped in favor of more fucking. (O’Reily’s twin is a bit of a masochist. Miguel can’t help wondering if the real one might be too, very deep down: all this posturing of his has to be hiding something.)

It’s dropped, but very much later on, caught and trapped again, back in Oz, faced with the actual O’Reily being his annoying smartass self? Miguel thinks back on it. Thinks of impossibly tight heat around his cock, pale skin bruising so easily, and brown hair just long enough to grab.

And there’s something dark and hungry coiling in his gut as he thinks: _maybe_.


End file.
